Christmas Road Trip
by TheLateNightStoryteller
Summary: For the Fitzsimmons Secret Santa: Best Friends, Fitz and Jemma, are in college together, but it's the holidays and the pair decide to go on a Christmas road trip before they go home to see their families, however, in the aftermath of what seemed like an innocent game, unresolved feelings are sure to stir up.


**To: Dwelthebraveheart, Merry Christmas! It was so much fun being your secret Santa and thankyou for the awesome prompt!**

** - TheLateNightStoryTeller**

* * *

><p><em><strong>1 - Present <strong>_

Fitz was awoken by a familiar voice chirping "Happy Christmas!" even though it was only the fifteenth of December, followed shortly by his mattress bouncing him up and down as a sudden weight fell onto it.

"Mmmm," he groaned, still groggy and a little grumpy at the sudden transition from sleep into wakefulness, despite the fact that the person who now had her hand pressed against his back so she could shake him was, in his opinion, the best thing in the entire world, the universe even. "Jemma," he whined. "It had better not be earlier than eight-"

"It's eight thirty on the dot," she told him cheerfully, bouncing again so that he felt the vibrations in his stomach.

"That means it was _earlier _than eight when you barged in-" he complained, eyes remaining closed as he buried his face into his pillow.

"Oh don't be like that," she tutted dismissively.

"I could have been naked!" he protested.

She snorted a chuckle. "You _always _sleep in pajamas," she reminded him, and he could _hear _her eyes rolling. "Get up, I have a present for you."

He cracked one eye open to see her beaming down at him, entirely unaffected by the early hour.

"I thought we were giving them on the twentieth," he reminded her. "At the end of our Christmas road trip."

They were visiting a variety of nearbyish Christmas attractions before each of them flew home for the holidays. Fitz hadn't been too enthused by the idea, but Jemma had eventually worn him down, promising chocolate and holiday magic.

"This one's _for _the trip," she informed him cryptically, squirming impatiently beside him.

"For the trip?" he questioned, surprised because they usually got each other the same thing, a copy of the previous year's Doctor who Christmas special, a large bag of their favourite candy and a calendar for the new year (Jemma liked to fill his with important dates such as their birthdays, Fitzsimmons third Friday of the month and so on, before she wrapped it).

"Don't worry, I have one too," she assured him. "C'mon sleepy, get up so you can open it! We need to leave in an hour and if you don't hurry up we won't have time to make pancakes!"

Curious now, he propped himself up on one elbow to examine the brightly coloured package, adorned with a large, silver bow, which she merrily presented to him.

"What is it?" he asked, shaking it and tilting his head to listen inside.

"Stop that," she scolded, giggling and he grinned at her. "Just open it silly."

"This had better not be homework," he warned playfully.

She sighed impatiently. "Would you like me to help you?" she asked, reaching towards it but he shook his head and waved it away.

"I'm opening it, I'm opening it, don't flip your pancakes…. yet," he kidded and they grinned at each other again before he carefully pulled off the bow then tore through the paper.

Inside was the ugliest sweater he'd ever seen in his life. It was green and red with Christmas symbols of every holiday colour thrown all over it as if whoever had made it had had no eye for organization or symmetry (or really anything at all).

Squirming excitedly, she pulled an equally ugly sweater out of her bag and slipped it on, popping her head out the top and giggling as if it were Christmas morning.

"We both have one," she explained enthusiastically. "So we'll match."

"I love it," he declared warmly, and he meant it because it now bore the image of her smiling face in every thread and the sound her laughter was permanently woven into it. He pulled it on, stretching it out in front of him to look at the horrible mess of cheer on the front, before beaming widely at her. "Thank you Jemma."

She beamed back broadly, eyes sparkling like tinsel, before flying forward to bundle him up in a soft, wooly hug, which he returned warmly, content as he rested the side of his head against her hair. She smelled wonderful, like a blanket wrapped around him and a cool breeze on a summer's day and even beneath the sweaters he felt the familiar shape of her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

He didn't know exactly what they were to each other or, more specifically what he was to her. He wasn't sure if she thought of him as her best friend or if she wanted something else too, the way he did, but in moments like these he was certain that she loved him. She made him feel special and loved and important and that was greatest gift he could think of.

"It's wonderful," he murmured.

He felt her smile and she turned to kiss his cheek before pulling away, rushing warmth across his face and down into his stomach. "I'm glad."

_**2- Carols**_

"Name three forces that act without contact," Fitz asked, textbook in hand, as Jemma took her turn driving them down the quiet, snowy highway towards their first destination.

"Gravitational force, electrical force and magnetic force," she told him easily over the low mumblings of music on the radio. "C'mon Fitz, you aren't even trying. We're going to forget everything we've learned in our time off if you don't put in a bit more effort-"

"We're on _holidays _Jemma," he complained, shutting the book and casting her a sour look which she caught out of the corner of her eye. "We should be turning up the Christmas music, not drilling each other on stuff we already know."

"Preparation and practice are essential to our success," she reminded him firmly. "I'm not failing my year just because I mucked around for two weeks instead of keeping myself sharp. Besides I thought you _liked _science."

"No, I don't like science." He deadpanned, but as she glanced quickly at him, alarmed, she saw that his eyes had a mischievous glint and he smiled. "I love it," he kidded and she rolled her eyes. "And since when are _you _worried about failing, Miss Perfect GPA."

"It's _nearly _perfect because _I_ study," she argued, though the corners of her mouth twitched upwards as she fought a smile and a blush rose to her cheeks at the compliment. "And _you,_" if she hadn't been driving she would have poked his stomach at the word 'you', "won't always be able to get by putting in minimal effort."

"I do the readings!" he defended hotly, crossing his arms and leaning back against his seat.

"And you only show up to about half your classes," she scolded.

"How would you know that, Queen of Biochem?" he teased, earning himself another rosey blush. "I'm in engineering, I take physics instead of intestinal worm dissection." He made a face at his last statement and she groaned at his squeamishness, though the flock of butterflies that had began flapping excitedly in her chest when he called her _Queen of Biochem _didn't take a pause.

She wondered if the reason her stomach crinkled at his words had anything to do with the fact that it was _him _saying them. It was new and strange and more than a little confusing, these feelings that had sparked inside of her, for the person who'd been her best friend since they were paired together in chemistry class when they were sixteen years old.

It seemed like so long ago now, another lifetime, when she'd been the odd girl whose notebook had an image of the TARDIS door for a cover and was filled with doodles of atoms and biochemical pathways rather than hearts and cartoons, while he'd been the strange boy no one talked to because he scored almost perfect on every test without studying and because he'd muttered loudly about being surrounded by imbeciles on more than one occasion (loudest after the chorus of snickers that had followed the teacher calling out his given name during attendance on the first day of class. Jemma didn't really understand what had been so funny, he had a lovely name however old fashioned it was).

She hadn't given him much thought beyond that and (she suspected) the feeling had been mutual. However once they'd begun working on their project, pitching ideas back and forth like tennis balls, they'd discovered that they'd found someone whose passion matched their own and, to their immense delight, that together they could accomplish more than twice as much as they could by themselves, the way colonies of cells had come together long ago to form multicellular organisms, capable of things no unorganized mass of them would ever be.

It wasn't until later that they'd discovered that, on top of being the best of teams, they'd also become the best of friends. Hours of studying together turned into more hours laughing or simply enjoying one another's easy company. One day she'd looked up and realized that, without her even noticing, he'd become her best friend. They'd been best friends ever since, however a few months ago Jemma had began to suspect they were becoming something… else.

It had been during a game, a silly game that her roommate Skye had suggested one night when she was bored (even though she really should have been working on her programming assignment). She called it real or not real.

The game was simple, all they needed to do was state two facts about themselves, one false and the other true, and the other two each got a guess at which one was true. To 'make it more interesting' (as Skye put it) every wrong guess needed to be followed by a gulp of beer.

Everything had started out fine, the statements were innocent enough and both her and Fitz easily chose each other's real answer, however Skye was a mystery to both of them, even after knowing her for almost three years, and soon all three of them were feeling the effects of the alcohol in their systems.

They were all laughing ridiculously at something Skye had said ("I am a four hundred foot tall purple platypus-bear with pink horns and silver wings") when Fitz had grown oddly serious and announced. "It's my turn."

"Shoot buddy," Skye giggled, oblivious to his change in tone, however Simmons' concern had pulled her out of her giddiness, and she frowned, listening intently.

"I have never lived in the same house for more than two years," he began firmly. Jemma readied herself for the next statement, certain she was going to be the first to answer _real _because she already knew that the first one was not real, (and was feeling just a little smug about it too). "I am in love with Jemma," he finished.

"Real!" she blurted, then felt her face flush as she realized what he'd said. "Or… um… wait…." Her eyes narrowed, not understanding and she shook her head. "What?"

"Which one is real?" he asked softly, almost as if she were the one who knew and not the other way around.

Skye finally noticed the tension in the air and her gaze darted between them, eyes wide, as she and Fitz waited for Jemma to answer and she mouthed a silent "Oh."

Jemma tried, she really did, but her throat had closed up and besides how was _she _supposed to know? They stared at each other for almost a minute, her heart beating more and more forcefully against her chest each second that passed so that she feared it was attempting to hammer its way out. She was terrified to look at him but she couldn't look away, it was as if she'd frozen and needed to reboot before she could work again.

Then something shifted, she felt it in the space between them, and his expression changed from questioning to hurt, to sadly accepting and he broke eye contact, nodding ever so slightly as if he'd just found a solution to one of his physics problems.

He laughed, but Jemma knew him well enough to know that it wasn't a real one. "Not real, they're both not real."

Skye's shoulders fell in relief and she smacked his arm, looking offended. "Fitz what the hell?!" she exclaimed. "That's cheating… you… you… you big fat cheater!"

"Hey, you never said that one _had _to be real," he protested, rubbing his arm and shooting her an accusing look. "Ow Skye, that hurt."

"Sorry," she apologized quickly, not really sounding sorry. "It's all those self defence classes with May." She flexed her arm proudly. "I've buffed up and now I don't know my own strength. You know she's not so bad once you get past the 'I could kill by looking at you' vibe."

"Uh huh," Fitz replied, unimpressed. "I'm not joining the class so you can use me as your punching bag _every _Thursday night."

"We'd be punching _a bag_," she objected. "Seriously Fitz, what do you think we do all…."

They continued to banter, Skye keeping up her attempts to loop Fitz (and Jemma) into self defence classes with their school, however Jemma had stopped paying attention.

It had been real. She knew Fitz well enough to know when he was lying and he was lying about his statement being false.

Back in the present, much more cheerful than he'd been that day, Fitz reached over, turning up the music so that Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer filled the car.

"... and if you ever saw it," he sang spiritedly, grinning from ear to ear as he looked to her expectantly.

"You would even say it glows," she sang the next line through a string of laughter and his smile widened even further.

She adored the sound of his voice, merrily singing along with the happy tune, a little off key at some parts, and a little louder than the needed to be at others, but wonderful and familiar and just _right_.

"_Rudolph with your nose so bright, won't you guide my sleigh tonight?" _he chorused before cheering enthusiastically and she laughed at him again before joining in.

'_That's the man I'm in love with,' _she thought fondly, watching his hands wave above his head, both ecstatic and terrified of the new found emotions welling up inside of her. '_He's the goofball cheering for the imaginary reindeer.'_ He smiled at her again and she almost burst into nervous giggling, biting down hard on her tongue to stop the impulse, because he made her heart flutter and cheeks burn. '_But he's also my best friend, more than that, he's my other half. What if this messes everything up?' _

Her chest tightened painfully at the thought of losing him.

'_What am I going to do?' _

_**3 - Snow**_

It was past noon when they arrived at the first town on their list. Bright yellow sunshine reflected off off the freshly fallen snow, making the world around them almost hurt to look at as they stepped out of the car and stretched their bodies, stiff after hours sitting in the small space.

"Oh look Fitz, isn't it gorgeous?" Jemma gushed, her eyes shining as they rested on the hotel entrance, decorated for Christmas with a large green wreath and a team of golden reindeer pulling a miniature sleigh, all coated in snow like icing on a gingerbread house. She gave a happy little chirp and rushed ahead of him.

"Wait, Jemma slow down!" Fitz called as she ran down the stoney path towards the hotel.

"Race you there!" she called back, laughter turning her words to chiming birdsong.

"Oh, that's hardly fair," he complained, picking up his pace and abandoning the trail in favour of the quicker route through the small field of snow between the building and the parking lot.

He was around four leaps in when his foot sunk into a particularly deep patch, throwing him off balance and causing him to fall forwards, face first, into the freezing white powder.

"Fitz!" Jemma exclaimed. It sounded as if she'd nearly reached the entrance.

Rapid shuffling footsteps told him that she had doubled back to come get him and he lifted his head, blinking off the icy clumps that stuck to his eyelashes, icy water melting over his nose and cheeks, to see her pushing her way through the snow like an icebreaker, keeping her balance until she came to a stop only a foot away, staring down at him with crossed arms and shaking her head disapprovingly.

"Oh Fitz," she sighed. "Look at your poor face, it must be freezing. Here." She reached out her and he took it.

However, something about being on holidays or the sunshine, or the jingling of Christmas spirit in the air, had made him giddy and playful and instead of allowing her to assist him to his feet, he grinned mischievously and tightened his grip so he could pull her down onto the thick pile of snow beside him.

"Wha-" she shrieked, caught off guard for a moment while she hit the cold cushion with a soft thud. Then she sat up and grinned back, scooping up a handful of snow and throwing it above him so that it showered down onto him like a tiny blizzard. "Fitz you sneak!" she cried and he laughed loudly while shaking it from his hair.

She stuck out her tongue and returned the gesture goodnaturedly as he pushed himself up to gather a ball of snow, ready to retaliate but she'd leapt to her feet and dodged it quickly, laughing and scrunching her nose at him, then kneeled down to form a ball of her own.

It wasn't long before they were shooting cold, wet projectiles at each other, giggling so much their sides ached and red in the face from prancing around, trying futilely to dodged the chaos of airborne snow. After a few good hits the pair of the of them were already thoroughly soaked, the crystallized water having poured into their boots and melted against their warm feet, however it wasn't until Jemma collided with him, pushing him down into a small mound of it as they laughed loudly together, that the frozen water got into their hair and down the back of their coats.

It was _freezing_ but, for once, Fitz didn't mind (and from the look on her face when she rolled off of him to lay in the snow beside him, neither did Jemma) because she wove her fingers between his, squeezing his hand through their gloves as tiny joyful chuckles continued to burst out of her, shaking her entire body and reddening her already Christmas red face. Watching her, Fitz was certain he was the happiest person on the planet.

He turned his head so he could take her in properly, savouring the wonderful glow that surrounded her, wrapping him in the same sense of amazement and safety she'd managed to instill every day since he'd first looked up from his work and caught her fond gaze running over him so many years ago.

He'd never wanted to kiss anyone more than he did in that moment, lying beside her in the snow, but he also knew that, more than that, he never wanted to leave her side, which was what he'd be risking if he let himself be so forward with his emotions. Besides, she didn't _want _him to kiss her. She'd made that perfectly clear that night a few months earlier, when she'd looked at him with wide fearful eyes, mouth gaping open in shock as he'd risked letting her peek into the only part of his heart he'd ever kept from her.

It wasn't her fault, she couldn't help the way she felt anymore than he could, and he'd been lucky enough to be gifted with her affections, even if they weren't exactly the kind he yearned for. He was her best friend, and she was his and that was enough, however much it stung.

"Jemma?" he murmured, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand.

"Hmm," she replied, resting her cheek against her hood so that she was facing him and smiling softly, making his heart flutter as if it were made of wings.

"Did you know that you're my best friend in the entire world?" he whispered.

Her smile widened, crinkling her eyes which sang with joy and she squeezed his hand, nodding so that her skin swooshed against the smooth fabric. "Yeah," she answered, and he marveled at the way her voice could change from morning birdsong to a gentle evening breeze while still sounding like her. "Did you know that you're mine?"

Despite the cold, it suddenly felt like spring. "I did," he told her quietly, enchanted by the way her eyes shimmered in the bright sunshine.

She chuckled warmly and squirmed forward to kiss his nose, the blissful sensation of her lips on his skin spreading throughout his entire body. "Good."

_**4 - Lights**_

That night, once they'd dried off and had supper, the pair visited the town's famous sculpture garden.

It was beautiful, ice shaped into endless, elegant forms and lit by coloured lights that shone brighter for the darkness that surrounded them. The trees were strung with wires, dotted with glowing blue, red or purple bulbs, the dark branches hidden in the shadows so that they looked like an explosion of stars.

Fitz was finishing the last bite of their dough-toboggan, a flat strip of deep fried dough sprinkled with powdered sugar and cinnamon, and she handed him a napkin to wipe his fingers on before he replaced his gloves.

He smiled gratefully at her and dusted off the sugar. "Thanks Jemma, that was delicious."

"Really?" she teased, eyes sparkling with amusement as she lifted an eyebrow. "I couldn't tell by the way you gobbled it up."

He made a face and she scrunched her nose at him, skipping happily so that he needed to quicken his footsteps to keep up with her.

"Isn't this exciting?" she chirped. "The town of Belfour has had the Ice Sculpture Garden built every year since it was founded in 1819, it attracts artists from all around the world! In 1954 the renowned biochemist, _Bobbi Morse_, carved out a model of the newly discovered alpha helix conformation of DNA." She grinned excitedly, nudging him with her shoulder. "It's hard to believe that it was only sixty years ago that we hadn't a clue what the basic structure of DNA was, and look at us now! We've mapped the entire human genome, as well those of numerous other organisms."

"Yeah, too bad it melted when spring came around," Fitz added.

"It really is a shame," she agreed, glancing sadly at the all the wonderful sculptures, doomed by the changing of the seasons. "I can't imagine working so hard on something only to have it melt away in a few months." Then she shrugged, her grin returning. "They'll always have the memory though, and the sense of accomplishment."

Fitz nodded. "And I'm sure they had lot's of fun building them."

"Oh, like that snowman we built last winter," she put in, moving towards him so that her arm brushed against his. "Mr.-"

"Mr. Grinch," the finished together, beaming.

"Poor guy, he didn't even last the afternoon," he lamented. "Do you remember how he was run over by a snow plow?"

She patted his shoulder, shaking her head. "I can't think about, it's too sad."

"Well then why'd you bring it up?" he questioned.

"I was talking about when we _built _him," she told him, rolling her eyes. "Not when he was minced into pieces."

Fitz nodded somberly. "The snowbanks were filled with his little raisin-buttons." He paused, gaze flickering away for a moment, and when it returned to her his cheeks were a few shades rosier than they'd been just a second ago. "I think what made him special was that we built him together," he told her.

Jemma couldn't help the wide grin that spread from one ear to the other, her heart hammering beneath her ribcage and her stomach squeezing as she reached down to take his hand, hoping he'd think her flushed, reddened face was a consequence of the cold wind that blew across her skin.

"I do too," she agreed.

He looked down at their joined hands, surprised, but grinning as widely as she was and, suddenly, she felt as if she needed to tell him the truth. It was still scary, probably the scariest thing she'd ever done except that one sky diving lesson she'd let her brother talk her into, and she felt a little the way she had then, staring down from an impossibly high perch, preparing to leap and knowing that once she did she'd have absolutely no control over whether or not she landed safely.

"Fitz," she called softly, her breath catching as he turned towards her. It was like looking down from that dizzying height, it made her heart race and her palms sweat but oh was it ever beautiful.

He smiled at her, that same smile that had filled her with cheer all these years, but now it filled her with something else too, a yearning that was as pleasant as it was painful.

She didn't give herself time to think about the what-ifs, or to let her doubts resurface to hold her back. Instead she gathered her courage and leaped off the edge, pushing herself up on her tiptoes and planting a determined kiss onto his lips.

A small squeak of surprise escaped him before he relaxed, wrapping an arm around her back and returning it earnestly, lighting her up with a glow that rivaled the lights strung on the trees.

When they broke apart he stared back at her, confused. His mouth opened but he couldn't seem to find the words and he closed it again, eyes searching hers.

She smiled at him, feeling as if she really had fallen hundreds of feet, blood roaring in her ears and a little breathless. "I suppose now's as good a time as any to tell you that I'm…" she hesitated, wondering if would sound silly, but he had his gaze locked onto her, and she could see the hope flickering behind his eyes so she continued, wanting to spark that hope into a flame (and maybe kiss him again). "I'm in love with you," she continued clearly. "You're my best friend, you'll _always _be my best friend," she was speaking rapidly now, words tumbling over each other. "But I'm also in love with and I know you told me months ago, and I really should have answered you then, but I didn't know, I didn't know if I felt the same way, and then I did but I was scared and- What?" She asked suddenly because he was gawking at her as if he were looking at the ocean, eyes wide in complete awe.

"It's just…" he began, finding his tongue at last. "I thought...Y- you are?"

She nodded, smiling softly. "Yeah."

Eyes lighting, his grin returned. "Yeah, me too… I mean..." His ears reddened and he shuffled his feet, looking down at them in embarrassment. "I mean, I'm in love with you too, not that I'm in love with _myself… _"

She blew out a breath, amused though a little impatient. "Fitz."

"But you probably knew…" He lifted his chin, trailing off. "Yeah?"

"I knew what you meant," she told him.

"Oh." He nodded quickly. "Right, of course you did." He swallowed. "Umm… so…"

She chuckled at him, smiling fondly. "I'd really like to kiss you again, if you wouldn't mind."

He grinned at her. "I'd like that a lot actually."

"I thought you would," she laughed, leaning forward, and this time he met her in the middle and, together, they shone brighter than the all the lights in the garden.

_**5 - Fire**_

That night, the pair decided to spend a few hours by the roaring fireplace of the hotel's lounge before heading back up to their room. It was a small, cozy room, with wooden furniture and a thick cushioned, dark red sofa which Jemma was currently sitting on stretching out her feet to warm them by the dark orange flames that flickered and crackled in the fireplace.

"So… can I tell my mum?" Fitz wondered, setting down a large mug of hot chocolate in front of her and taking a seat beside her, close enough that his shoulder was pressed against hers and their matching sweaters rubbed together.

"Of course you can, you can tell whoever you want," she answered, pulling in her feet so she could reach for her drink. "Why wouldn't you?"

"Well, I mean I wasn't sure if this meant…. so are we together?" he asked, gripping his cup nervously as she sipped from hers.

She set her mug back down on the table and turned to face him, tilting her head. "I thought we were… unless…," she bit her lip, uncertain. "Unless you don't-"

"I do," he said quickly. "I do very much."

Her smile returned and she squirmed towards him, nuzzling her head against his shoulder, into the fabric of the wonderfully horrible sweater she'd bought him so that she felt the shape of his arm underneath and closing her eyes contentedly. "Me too."

He pecked a kiss on the top of her head, making her smile, before snuggling his cheek into her hair. "Good, then I'll tell my mum. And my Grandma, and Uncle William and-"

"You'll have to hold a family meeting," she teased, tilting her head up to smirk at him as he rose his away. "Are you going to tell the entire neighbourhood as well?"

"I'm just happy that's all," he defended, but he smiled back as she turned her head to plant a quick, fond kiss onto his shoulder and his voice softened into teddybear stuffing. "That I get to be with the most amazing person in the world."

She looked into his eyes, heart swelling with joy that she'd found someone so beautiful and warm, like the flame in the fireplace that bathed the room in soft orange light, and that he thought she was that too, that she was amazing.

He set down his mug and, hesitantly, as if he were still a little uncertain, he raised his arm to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her towards him so that her head rested just below his chin and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out. In that moment, she knew that she was loved and that, to him, she was special, important. It was a wonderful feeling, better than the heat from the flames on her feet or the creamy, sugary taste of her hot chocolate or even the sound of Christmas bells, and she hoped that he felt it too, that he knew how much she loved him.

She lay her arm across his belly, squeezing him around the middle, and let herself sink into him as they watched the glowing logs crack and crumble into ash.

"Me too," she told him warmly. "I think this is the best Christmas I've ever had."

He chuckled. "It's not Christmas."

Jemma laughed and shook her head, rubbing her hair against the bottom of his chin, a calm, jingling glow spreading around them like a soothing haze. "Yes it is," she whispered, sitting up a little so she could kiss his jaw before snuggling back against him. "You make it Christmas."


End file.
